Sherlock's Boy
by SuperWhoLock Games
Summary: Sort of AU. A few years post Reichenbach, Sherlock and Molly are married with three boys. Their eldest, Simon, is interested in Sherlock's field of work and deduction and wants to prove to him that he can handle cases with him. I don't plan on having Molly in it a whole lot but she's a big part of this. Leave a review:)


Alright. So I got this sort of AU idea. Basically, it's a couple years post Reichenbach and Sherlock and Molly are married with three boys:) They all still reside at Baker Street with the exception of their youngest 2 sons sharing a basement room in 221C. Anyway, this chapter may be a little bit of an infodump but I'm gonna call it "establishing my characters" hahah. So I thought of this idea over notes passed in class with .com after many hours of final testing. But, I hope you enjoy chapter one. And give my girl-bro a follow on Tumblr? haha.

Disclaimer: _Sherlock_ belongs to BBC and Mofftiss and all them. I own the three boys...they's mine, lol. But other than that, nothing.

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Sherlock stormed into his flat and slammed the door. He angrily stomped up the steps, ready for some time alone. He had just been with Mycroft and their little chat didn't end well. Mycroft has been trying to get Sherlock to accept some cases that the consulting detective would have rated a 4 at least. He didn't have time for any of his brother's mundane 'cases'. He had better things to do.

He opened the door of his flat and immediately threw his coat and scarf on the rack by the door. His expression immediately softened when he saw his favorite sight to come home to every day. It was a vertical row of four black and white framed photos. He took a moment to look at each one.

The first was him sitting down with Molly standing behind him, her hands draped over his shoulders and folded neatly on his chest. The one below that was a close-up of them. Molly was leaning into him with her cheek pressed against his temple. The third showed them facing each other, their foreheads touching, and looking into each others eyes. The final, and Sherlock's favorite, was a fun picture the photographer caught of Sherlock with his eyes closed, pressing a kiss to Molly's cheek while she laughed looking at the camera.

His usually stoic expression completely faded and was replaced with a content smile as he walked further into the room, looking at more pictures of his family.

Next was a square frame separated into fourths with one picture of each of his boys and a small plaque with their names on it in thin dark letters. He looked at his eldest son of 15 years, with straight brownish hair like Molly's, but the bright blue eyes of himself and pale skin lightly dusted with pale brown freckles across his cheekbones and nose. _Simon Alastair Holmes _he read. He looked to his middle son of 10 years. _Mark William Holmes_ had straight black hair and big brown eyes like Molly's. Finally was his youngest. _Nathaniel 'Pierce' Holmes _was their sweet little 4 year old who had curly black hair like Sherlock's and green eyes.

Sherlock, now positively beaming, laid down on the sofa and crossed his legs at the ankle. He steepled his fingers together in his usual thinking position and held them together under his chin as he stared at the ceiling, going deep into thought. He first thought of more cases he could take from Lestrade, but his thoughts soon turned to his oldest son, Simon. He had recently been having some trouble with the teenage boy. He didn't seem interested in school. In fact he liked to avoid it, taking walks around the city then going to pick up his little brothers at their schools. He was a very intelligent boy, presenting much talent in the deduction area like his father. He always wanted to help Sherlock on cases, but he first needed to prove that he was responsible enough, as his productivity level at school wasn't that good.

His eyes started to drift closed as he went deeper into his mind palace, searching for answers about Simon.

"Afternoon.", a voice said.

Sherlock's eyes shot open and he looked to the source of the sound. His mouth slightly dropped open when he saw who it was. Simon. Standing in the middle of the flat, holding a sandwich and perched on his shoulder..what the hell was that? Some kind of little animal? This was getting ridiculous. _This child_ was getting ridiculous.

"How was Uncle Mycroft's?" Simon asked, standing tall and wearing a smirk with as much confidence as a certain consulting detective.

"_Simon. Alastair. Holmes_! It is 12 o'clock, noon!" Sherlock growled, standing up and walking up to his son, awaiting an explanation.

"Oh, sorry. It _is_ lunch time, you must be hungry. Want one?" he asked holding his sandwich for his father to see, ignoring the use of his full name and the way it was said.

"I don't think now is the time for any jokes, Simon. You should be at school. Please don't tell me you've been here all day doing nothing. What about your little brothers? Did you feed them and take them to school after your Mum went to work? Oh, God, Simon." Sherlock said, partly talking to himself about the matter. He rubbed his face with his hands, obviously stressed about this. "Have you actually done anything today?" he was interrupted by a small purr-like sound from whatever animal Simon had on his shoulder. "And what the hell is that thing?!"

"Okay. Calm down, I had things under control. To answer your questions: Yes, both Mark and Pierce were walked to school and fed breakfast. I've done quite a bit today. I even made a list for you." he explained pulling out a piece of paper filled with his list of accomplishments that day. "If you read #6, you'll find out that I rescued this baby hedgehog." Simon finished, picking up the little white and brown creature from his shoulder and held it in his father's face.

Sherlock stared at the little animal in front of him. Then back to his son. He grabbed the list from Simon, still mad at him for being so careless.

"Read it out loud, Dad." Simon said with a smug little smile on his face, sitting down in a chair and feeding the hedgehog a tiny piece of lettuce from his sandwich.

Sherlock sighed. "Number 1..."

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Well that was fun! I have a feeling Simon is gonna be a sarcastic little shit throughout this, haha. Did you like the hedgehog touch? Wait 'til next chapter :) So this was really short and I feel like it was all over the place. I'm just establishing Simon in this...Anyway, leave a comment. Tell me how it is, constructive criticism is ok, maybe about improving something. I have no idea when I'll update so...Until next time!


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